


Colours

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Games, Gen, Implied Relationships, Laser Tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 11:19:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13480404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The nations gather at a special arena, and it's war again. Except now, lasers and cultural insults are the main focus of this conflict.





	1. This Is Only The Beginning

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"We're going to pick teams by mixing papers." America yelled, calling everybody to the center of the arena, which was modeled to look like an old, medieval town with towers and cottages and everything else.

After everyone stood close enough, he cleared his throat.

"Does anybody have a thing we can put these in?" England broke in, standing up. He picked the papers from the ground and uselessly shrugged with them still in his hands.

"Sure." Romania removed his hat, and passed it to them. America waited for his brother to put the names in.

"Good." England nodded.

After a short pause, he took out a single label and unfolded it.

"First team is Finland's." 

The Finn blinked twice, unsure if he heard correctly. Then, with a sheepish grin, he strode forward on the other side of the room.

"Next team leader is Prussia." America announced.

Prussia made a sassy gesture with his hand that practically screamed ' _obviously_ ' and stood a few feet to Finland's left.

"These'll be interesting teams..." England muttered to himself. America made a noncommittal noise and took out another slip.

"China." 

China sighed, and joined the other two. He crossed his arms, impatient.

"Last team...Bulgaria."

 

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Soon, teams were made. Some worked in each other's favour, some didn't. Romano seemed very pissed off to work with Latvia, the crybaby teen thing, but Romania and Bulgaria seemed content with anybody as long as they were in a pair.

The teams pretty much consisted of:

Finland with Sweden, Estonia (who seemed excited to be with two Nordics), Poland, Belarus and Canada. The green team.

Prussia had Lithuania (much to his dismay), Latvia, Romano, Norway and America. The purple team.

China's group had Hong Kong, Iceland, Austria, Hungary and Russia in it. It seemed like everyone in the blue team would split up in pairs, though...

Finally, Bulgaria's team had Romania, Denmark, England, France, and at last Ukraine. This was the red team.

Everybody had already gotten into their team vests and seemed excited to battle each other to the death. 

A robotic voice echoed throughout the room, and the lights suddenly dimmed.

' _This game will end in 20 minutes. The team with the most hits wins. Ready, set, go!_ '

 

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The first thing that happened was half of the green team hiding behind a large tree. Estonia glanced at Finland, waiting for instructions.

"Well, what you can do is-"

"Estonia, you can distract everyone, and we can go shoot them." Sweden replied gruffly. Finland paused, and then nodded, oblivious to Sweden's actual idea.

"S-sure, Swe- _Mr. Sweden_!" Estonia grinned, and waited for a second before leaping into the flurry of light in the middle of the village square.

Finland turned to Sweden, unsure where the rest of his team was.

"Who should we aim for now?" he asked.

"Denmark." Sweden responded without missing a beat.

"Okay!" Finland smiled, and raised his head.

"He'll probably be making a lot of noise..." he muttered, half to himself. Shaking his head, he gripped Sweden's hand.

"Let's go."

 

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Prussia dodged, rolling onto his back. He snarled at Russia, who stood a few feet away from him. He barely moved as he pushed the trigger again, sending a colourful light running down the German's shoulder. Cursing under his breath, he cocked his gun and rapid-fired at the Russian, slightly taking advantage of friendly war to destroy who he despised. 

Speaking of that, Prussia quickly swerved around, letting America jump in and take over with Russia. He let a smirk grow on his face as he saw brown hair behind a few rosebushes.

_A lame girl running in the flower bushes. How un-awesome._

He quickly shot at the woman, hearing her swear out loud in another language. 

"Eat dirt, Hungary!" he shouted, watching a few colourful sparks that made her stand out. Perplexed, Prussia saw a flurry of colour on the other side of her hip. He hadn't aimed there...

Two people emerged from the shadows, quickly shooting at Hungary as if their lives depended on it.

"Suck on your mother's onions*!" Romania screamed, jumping backwards as he quickly got hit by her.

"...what he said!" Bulgaria took charge, skillfully dodging her attempts at hitting him.

Prussia ran closer, joining in the fun.

"Goddamit!" Hungary hissed as she glimpsed Prussia once more, and as quick as lightning Austria jumped in from the other side, fending off the albino. Prussia screeched, hurt.

"You've wounded me~! Why!?" Prussia fell to the ground in a dramatic way, clinging on to his gun but letting his head fall on the artificial grass while sobbing. "You killed me!"

"Shut up." Austria strained his face. "You're pathetic."

"No!" Prussia rolled over on his back.

Everybody stopped moving, staring at the German. He kept on yelling about betrayal and loneliness, until they all backed away in fear.

As Austria stepped back, he yelped in fear. With a groan, the nation narrowed his eyes as he noticed the fact that he hit himself**. How did that even work? Did that count?

Unfortunately...the noise attracted some unwelcome visitors.

 

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Hong Kong looked outside the window, leaning in a way where he could see the skirmishes but not be noticed by the others.

"What do we, like, do now?" he questioned nonchalantly, a bit bored.

Iceland shrugged, flopping on the bed in a starfish pose.

"Let's murder Norway with lights." he joked.

"Sounds good." Hong Kong slid the window open, and Iceland straightened up.

"I mean, I was kidding, but why not?" 

"Found him." Hong Kong quickly added in.

"That was quick. Can I do the honour?"

"Mhm." he stepped aside.

Iceland slid outside the window, bending forwards so he could have better aim. He caught a single glance of shiny metal, and shot Norway instantly.

He quickly hid behind the window, swallowing. He grinned, excitement suddenly sending a burst of energy through him. At first he was hesitant to join the game, but now...?

"I'm going to take him to the bakery***, mark my words..." Iceland whispered, standing up and shooting again after a bit.

"W-what!?" Hong Kong spluttered, taken aback.

"What? Okay, fine. I'll find him at the beach..."

Hong Kong sighed.

"You're a freaking dork, y'know that?"

"Yep." Iceland nodded. He shot Norway one last time and gave his friend a sarcastic smile.

 

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *A classic Romanian insult. I was tempted to use 'Your mother on ice' or some other crappy your-mom-related insults, but this is my favourite one. I use it quite a lot, to be honest.  
> **Referencing when Austria attacked its own army and lost to itself.  
> ***Icelandic insults. They're beautiful, and you should start using them in your own day to day life :,)


	2. Run

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Denmark trudged outside, holding on to the door until he was convinced it was safe to go on. He stepped on the fake cobblestone, which made barely noticeable scratchy sounds.

None of his other teammates where there - to be honest, they were kinda sucky, so he was completely fine working alone.

Slinging his gun over his shoulder, he decided to walk around until he spotted someone. He did want to find the main arena, though. It'd be nice to get into real battle bloodbath.

_Wait._

Denmark quickly turned around, in a way so sharp that it scraped the ground and sent shrill echoes through the area he was in*. He cursed to himself, but this was only the calm before the storm.

Well, storm was an understatement.

He yell-gasped in surprise, being hit three times. Denmark swerved around, frantically looking for his attacker.

Jumping back in shock, he recognized somebody's voice.

" _I got him, Swe!_ "

 _Finland?_ Denmark thought in disbelief. _Oh, dang. How could I forget?_

Denmark turned head over heels, kicking himself up. He had to escape. Luckily, he was pretty fast.

He heard the couple exchange a few ecstatic words (well, as excited as Sweden could possibly get) and...a war cry?

_I haven't heard that in...what, about fifty years? That was so fierce...h _oly carp. Wait, it isn't the time to think about fish!__

Denmark's best bet was to either hide, which wasn't exactly his forte so throw that option out the window, or to go into the middle of the arena, trap them there, and hope that he doesn't get shot.

With a heavy breath, he started running. Instantly Finland shifted and started screaming about victory.

_He may look nice and kind, but on the battlefield it's all thrown away. Kinda like Nor...except Norway's not sweet at all._

Soon, Denmark grinned as he saw colourful lights from a few feet away. He fell to the ground with a sharp thud, and started to slide into the 'slaughterhouse' without being seen.**

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"Mr. South Italy..." Latvia squeaked. He wasn't usually this nervous, unless around Russia. He thought that Romano shared the same kind of essence. _Being extremely terrifying_.

"Yes?" Romano growled, tapping his finger on the stone wall of the tower. The Italian glanced around, glad to be in the ceiling-less tower that could easily give away everyone's location.

"I was just wondering...how do you know if someone is out of the game?"

"Just check that black bracelet they gave us. It has six lights. If one goes out?" Romano wildly gestured with his hands***, a movement so sarcastic it made Latvia nervously laugh.

Latvia mumbled an apologetic excuse, and put his hand to his face, slinging his gun on his other hand.

Only five lights remained.

"Oh, who..." Latvia gasped, his sentence cut short. Another light turned off.

"Goddammit! That bastard!" Romano hissed under his breath, watching the largest strip of light flicker and turn off.

"That was Prussia, right? Since he's leader, and that was the biggest one." Latvia nervously put in. "We have to find Lithuania and that other person, before..."

"Shit..." Romano veered around, green eyes narrowed. He let out a raspy breath as soon as three figures came out from the stairway.

Poland smirked, cocking his gun. Behind him stood Estonia and Belarus.

"Surrender!" he yelled, stepping forwards.****

"Never, pompous asshat!" Romano bolted in front of them three, and Latvia stepped aside and crouched low. He watched from afar, as Poland and Romano slapped back insults like they meant nothing.

Estonia stood beside Poland, holding his gun in a defensive position.

Belarus muttered something about how unreliable guns were and walked back down the stairs.

"Your mother is a fat pig!" Romano snarled, raising his gun in warning.

"Joke's on you, pizza-kisser!" Poland replied cockily. "I have no mother! Neither did you! We're countries, stupid-"

"Don't use logic with me!" 

Poland rolled his eyes, and started to talk about something. Romano's tense stature relaxed, and he fondly listened to the Pole's story. His green eyes shone kindly, and he smiled.

But then, Romano clicked the trigger and it all went to hell.

"Suck on my pasta-loving ass." Romano whispered, face hardening.

Five lights.

Five more, and Poland was out.

Poland shrieked, and fell aside. Estonia stepped in, nervously swallowing.

The two looked at each other for a second, until Romano broke contact and started to aim at him too.

Three hits.

"Damn you!" Poland got to his feet, striking Romano four times. Romano single-handedly finished Poland off, a look of pleasure on his face. Poland sighed, watching the light from his green, lit-up suit fade away.

Meanwhile, Estonia got a few more hits in, skillfully dodging the lights Romano sent his way.

"Surrender!" Estonia breathed, trying to look fierce. Instead, he looked like a nervous nerd.

Romano wordlessly looked at him, chest heaving up and down in exhaustion.

Estonia waited, having his finger on the trigger in case anything happened.

Then, Latvia swooped in and hit Estonia three more times, the amount needed to end him.

Estonia locked eyes with him.

And a second later...

" _LATVIAAA_!"

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Canon. Denmark has quick reflexes, as shown in the Halloween event. Still, it won't save him from Finland. Once you're against Finland, Gesundheit.  
> **Accidental reference to Danish Slaughterhouse. I'm sorry.  
> ***Every Italian I've met used their hands to convey their emotions. A lot. Apparently this is a stereotype that's true to real life, based on a few quick google searches.  
> ****The reason Poland didn't immediately attack was because in that one extra episode with the Polish-Lithuanian-Commonwealth-Prussia battle, it was literally said 'he's more talk than anything'.


End file.
